After my son died, my friend moved away. What I discovered later devastated me all over again.

My close friend kept telling me over and over, “You have to keep going,” and although it seemed impossible, I finally found a way to cope.

She was always there for me, offering comfort as my pain became unbearable.

For illustrative purposes only.
Two months later, he suddenly moved to another state for a new job.

It happened so fast that I barely had time to process his departure.

Although I missed her, I was glad she was looking for new opportunities.

One day, I decided to visit her unexpectedly.

When she opened the door, she froze, pale and with trembling hands.

Worried, I went inside and what I saw almost made me faint.

There, in his living room, was a small monument he had created for my son.

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